Usurper
by Commander-059
Summary: Fifty Years after the Mad King's demise, the Rider's flourish. But could a Surdan assassination attempt break the peace? A new generation of Riders must find the answer, or an Usurper will reign. New faces, new alliances, new enemies wait in the shadows.
1. Chapter 1

**Well, here we go. Im diving into the deep end with this one. Im planning on this story going on for a while, quite a while...wish me luck****. Inheritance belongs to Christopher Paolini. OCs are mine I suppose. Magic. Poof.  
**

Chapter I

A small flutter in the distance did nothing to disturb the pristine calm of a damp morning some time in April. Birds continued to chirp, and insects buzzed about. However, one particularly learned and intelligent squirrel headed the subtle call to danger and dove to the forest floor as quickly as possible. He was smart, an instant later two giant winged beasts swooped down over head, moving in a complicated series of twists and dives beautiful, yet ferociously terrifying. Both dragons had Riders on them, wearing similar equipment. On the larger turquoise, sat a man garbed in a dark brown cloak and matching leather armor and a dark steel helm. Above his head he held a dazzling curved sword the color of his dragon's wings.

The other rider was similarly outfitted on his slightly smaller maroon dragon, with a tan cloak and a simple unadorned steel blade. The two beasts flew past each other at a dazzling speed, both unleashing a torrent of colored fire that passed harmlessly by each other's wards. The dark robed rider leaned forward and shouted something towards his mount, taken away by the wind swiftly, he had to strain his voice to be heard. Nonetheless, he couldn't speak mentally, all combatants had their minds shut tight in the violence, fearing a lapse in concentration even for a moment could end the fight in an instant.

The sea foam dragon understood however, and immediately threw it's wings up, powering upwards through the air, with the blood red dragon in easy persuit as it lost precious speed. The larger dragon turned upon reaching the apex of it's climb however, and as the two connected, it took the blow with it's hind legs, smashing through the red's wards and gripping onto his flanks. Immediately both riders tore their arms out of their straps and unleashed a flurry of blows as their mounts plummeted towards the earth. Both were evenly matched, however, their dragons weren't. The turquoise dragon gave the maroon a particularly hard shake, breaking it's rider's concentration, allowing the other to easily knock his blade out of his hand and swoop down in the saddle and grab it. The weaponless rider uttered a loud curse, swiped away by the cold metal helm in the wind.

The dragons separated, and by unspoken consent, masters and apprentices landed in a small clearing a hundred feet below. The tan rider let out a loud growl ov anger and tossed his helm to the side as he began healing the shallow cuts and wounds his dragon had suffered. He had a youthful face, looking into his early twenties, with dark black hair and a slightly rugged unkempt face. The other rider took off his as well and slowly walked over to his apprentice. He had a strange mix of features, he was clearly of the north based on his dirty blond hair and beard, looking perhaps thirty. Yet strange pointed tips were poking out of his messy hair. Putting his gloved hand on the other man's shoulder he spoke with a hoarse voice.

" You're too hard on yourself Nevan," he said with a pat on the back, "that was some good swordplay, dumb luck is what got you." He grinned, brushing some hair out of his eyes.

"But...Aedin, you defeated me so quickly...I was sloppy." gasped the youth, still breathing hard from the long battle as he breathlessly worded a spell to unblock the blade of his sword.

"Well that's to be expected, we were fighting inverted falling hundreds of leagues an hour towards the ground, you did well." Besides, the older man continued, sitting down on a stump. "I've fifty years on you, I should hope I can hold a man sticker better than you." He said with a smirk.

_Aye, that was a good fight, both of you, _hummed the turquoise dragoness for the first time. Both apprentice and dragon inclined their heads and were quick in thanks to their other master. Her congratulations were often small, and they knew from experience this was high praise.

_Thank you Elenya-elda_, said Karrik, _We will do better the next time we spar_.

"That's to be expected, you're learning fast, and you're already good, keep this up and I'll make a good swordsman out of you yet," grinned Aedin as he leaned on his sword and stood up, walking over to Elenya.

"So does that mean I'll be as good as you? Aedin-elda?" teased Nevan as he climbed onto Karrik.

"Keep that up and I'll thrash you again boy!" he called as he mirrored Nevan, tightening the leg straps on his saddle and tighting his sword belt. "See you tomorrow, bright and early."

With that, both dragons took off , spinning in different directions, Karrik turned west, entering a small valley where the apprentices' barracks were, along with some of the elven housing. Elenya turned north towards a sheer cliff and powered upwards through a downdraft to reach a small cave carved into the rock.

_I like it when they call you Elda, it makes you more regal somehow..._ Elenya teased as Aedin dismounted and began unstrapping her large saddle.

_Well I suppose, but I don't like it...makes me feel old. _He sighed as he finished the front straps.

_Well you are almost one hundred you know. _She smiled.

_"Don't remind me, just one problem with immortality. Roran, Katrina, Horst, Nasuada, even good King Orrin are all gone dead and buried, I should be an old man, or dead._ he stated matter-of-factly as he finished removing the saddle.

_Oh, so you wouldn't want to spend eternity with me?_ Elenya quipped.

Aiden only answered by walking over and hugging her snout tightly. The dragoness returning her love with a nuzzle. The half-breed was too tired to care about decency or toiletries, and his dragon was just warm. Instead of entering a recessed door to his warm furnished home carved into the rock, he just unlaced his boots and curled up against the side of his life partner. They had spent many a night like this, in some field in the southern Empire, or on some mountain in the Beors. The Rider knew he would always sleep more comfortably on a stone floor beside his dragon than in any bed.

Responding to him, Elenya dropped a large velvet wing over her Rider and they both drifted off to sleep, holding each other in a mental embrace.


	2. Chapter 2

**Short chapter, but its a bit easier to write than a longer one, and I feel less guilty than if I were to spend weeks upon weeks writing a big one. They will get longer and more detailed, but now I just want people to notice the story, so I can tell whether I should keep it going because people are interested or not.**

Aedin awoke in a very warm, dimly lit tent created by his dragoness's wing. Loathing the need to move from his comfortable spot, his duties , and personal needs saw that the moment wouldn't last as he hoped. He gently slid out from under the wing and stood up slowly, stretching his aching limbs from yesterday's training sessions, ill treated by spending a night on unpadded stone.

Cracking his neck to the left, then to the right he put his palm to an unremarkable stone wall near the rear of the cave and muttered in the ancient language.

"Deloi" softly crackled through the air and the stone shifted away, revealing a small passage.

Walking through slowly the half breed entered his home. It was furnished in stone, with some rough wooden furniture, some dwarven woven rugs, and assorted bits and wall mountings. There was a fireplace in the corner for cooking and warmth that vented upwards through several passages in the rock, combining with other chimneys that vented out the side of the mountain. Above it, his former elven sword from before he became a Rider sat in it's sheath ready for use. Turning away from the fireplace while lighting it with magic, he scrounged in a small kitchen area up a few steps for some food, finding a day old piece of bread, some dried meat, and cheese he made a morning sandwich and ate it while preparing some tea.

As he worked he sensed Elenya stirring from her sleep, as well as a gentle prodding at his mental defenses. He instantly raised his mental barriers, and his dragon instantly snapped awake, ready to bond with him to increase their strength. Immediately the advance stopped and a voice reverberated through his skull.

_ It's nice to see you still keep your guard up, but not needed. We're needed in the Chamber of Elders._ Murtagh said dryly.

The Chamber was a secret location, buried deep in the mountain chain that Arakesh: The Rider's city, was built on. Reaching it required an individual relocation spell that took a large amount of energy, as it was a simple pocket of space that could not be reached by conventional means, and as the spell had highly advanced wording that needed manipulation to circumvent the wards placed on it, only senior masters, and magic workers privy to the information discussed there could access it.

_Ah, good morning..._ responded Aedin, reaching for his hot cup of tea, _Why? I thought the weekly meeting wasn't until tonight._ he finished, sipping slowly.

_Nay, this is different, something's happened. Eragon wants to see us privately to discuss the usual politics before the regular meeting time._

Aedin could sense the worry in the red Rider's voice: It wasn't a good sign. Murtagh was unshakably confident, a bit of a egotist, but almost never upset by anything. If he was worried something must have gone terribly wrong. With that he ended the conversation and gulped down the tea quick enough to scald the back of his throat, then threw the rest of the pot over the flames to extinguish it with a loud hiss. He walked out the door and shut it just as quickly seeing Elenya already up and in the middle of a catlike stretch. He jumped on her bare back and she ran out of the cave at full speed, spirling into a neck snapping dive. She opened up her wings at the last second nosed up feet from the sea, gliding over some of the lower islands in the lagoon below.

He was about to ask Elenya what she thought of the situation when she flapped hard again, flying over a handful of particularly high cliffs, making him bite his tongue.

Muttering a curse, he used the momentary pause in her climb to send a quick message to his apprentice currently just waking.  
_Stay near the training grounds today and work with the elves on your grammyre. I have business to attend to._ He ordered, the smarting in his mouth breaking his calm exterior.

_As you wish...is something the matter?_ Nevan inquired, as his master sensed him rubbing his sore shoulder muscles from yesterday's fighting.

_We may be needed soon. I'll tell you as soon as I know more,_ he explained, pronouncing a quick healing spell on his mouth._ I would make sure your saddle is ready and blade is oiled, we might have to leave quickly_.

_As you wish._ Nevan replied, and Aedin closed the link.

Gradually, Elenya lowered her speed and landed on a large rock face, high above the crags of the Daeta'Dur Mountains. Aedin saw how far they had come. The face in which he and other masters lived was out of sight, obscured by sea mist and higher mountains. They hugged the shoreline for league after league, on one side, a lush forest that followed the coast far into the north, while on the other, nothing but the open sea and presumably another continent far beyond. Along nearly every mountain, halls, libraries, and barracks for different Riders peaked out.

They were shorter buildings made of stone; wood would've shattered in the deadly gusts of wind that rolled in the fall. Size was not an issue however, the only dragons that entered them were perhaps a year old, the rooms were reserved for young apprentices that had just made the journey from Alagasia to begin the years of training that awaited them.

That didn't concern the master however, what did, as he dismounted was the large circle of gemstones in front of him, on the perfectly flat polished stone mesa. Once he stepped inside, he began muttering a complicated spell. The wording was like any teleportation spell used to transport material over distances, yet it had many subtle nuances. One accounted for the exact position he was standing in. The stones were filled with massive amounts of energy, that allowed him to circumvent most of the thousands of wards placed on the mountain, the rest, with very careful wording he worked around himself. Finally, uttering a final word, there was a tremendous pull on his strength, knocking him to one knee as he disappeared in a a flash, followed by a tremendous blast of air.

**Daeta'Dur literally means Mists-Unconquorable. Essentially, the climate is like that of Northern France, or perhaps the Oregon rainforests, but with huge mountains. In the lower areas it's warm, but out on the sea shelves and higher mountains its freezing, and the wind makes most common buildings impossible, thus, dragon caves. ****Now then, gonna play some Skyrim for inspiration :D**


	3. Chapter 3

**Things will start picking up soon! Promise! Again, sticking with smaller chapters just getting the point across. Trying to flesh out backstory at the same time. **

**Let me know if y'all want me to change up styles, edit things, include more details, or what have you.  
**

There was no crack of over pressure that was created with most teleportation spells as Aedin flashed into the chamber, one of many spells that affected the space stopped it from happening. He stepped from the slightly raised platform similar to the on on the surface as his eyes adjusted to the dim space. Flameless lanterns illuminated the small passage way in front of him.

There was plenty of room for him to walk upright, but no dragon could fit inside. This did not upset Elenya or any other dragon in the slightest. As Saphira had told him, dragons belonged in the air, in closed spaces it made them uncomfortable. The dragons bonded with the people meeting here were content to get information from their bond partners, rather than being there.

Aedin had to admit he could see their point. The fact that the only thing holding tens of thousands of tons of rock from falling on his head was some spells was...unsettling. Especially as there was no physical way out of the chamber, and even the air was refreshed purely by magical means. However, the security was worth it. The enchanted platforms that served as entrances to the space had spells that allowed the person inside them with knowledge of the spell, to scry the chamber and enter it. Those that didn't have permission risked teleporting into solid granite or shale, which would not be fun, to say the least.

Suddenly, the passage way opened into a domed, lighter room perhaps fifty paces in diameter. A large circular table sat in the middle of it, containing a beautiful carved map of Alagasia and the Eastern Lands given by King Orik of the dwarves for the 25th anniversary of the fall of Galbatorix. Du Weldenvarden was cut out of pure emerald, the Beors of gold, and sea seas by sapphire. The Daeta'Dur mountains made of silver.

Sitting in a dark chair a bit off kilter from the entrance was Murtagh, and next to him in a higher chair was Eragon Shadeslayer.

"Glad you finally made it," said Murtagh with a smirk, "Hope you're not getting to old to go flying around the land."

"Never, just a slight headwind was all that slowed us down." Aedin replied, walking to his council seat a few chairs away from them.

Eragon sat in silence staring at the map, his fist resting on the beard he'd grown since becoming Grand Master of the Riders. Finally, he spoke.

"We believe the Surdans have attempted to kill King Dethras yesterday."

Both men's eyes widened at the news.

"How do we know this?" Aedin stuttered, struggling to find words.

"Dethras's Nighthawks contacted me in my chambers the hour it happened, he had been poisoned. Only the fact that the elven ambassador there that night was skilled in healing magic is what saved his life." Eragon responded, scratching at his beard.

"The Surdans have been unruely before...like when I was accepted into the Riders..."said Murtagh, "But outright murder? King Larkin is a loud talker, but he wouldn't resort to such outright rebellion."

"Wouldn't he? The Surdans pay much higher taxes to the Empire than either Terim or the Urgal tribes, perhaps he thought his people would rally behind independence?" questioned Aedin.

"That isn't our main concern," stated Eragon, returning to the conversation "The assassin's tool was Slither Oil, and I highly doubt that the king or his court know the location of the island that contains the Slither plant, or the knowledge to convert it to it's deadly form...another party I and Murtagh are familiar with could be helping them."

The revelation confused Aedin, especially so when he saw Murtagh turn deathly white. He knew that the oil was used in polishing gems, but he had no idea that it could be deadly.

"How could a simple oil kill someone though? I've never heard of such a thing." he asked dumbfounded.

Eragon was slow to respond, "Galbatorix had many servants working with him, some were assassins of a particularly dark variety that modified the oil with a plant very rare in Alagasia...I have seen first hand what it can do to flesh..."

"Ra'zac" Murtagh spat, "I thought you destroyed them? Galbatorix seemed quite upset that his favorite assassins had been killed."

"No, the priests in Helgrind had eggs hidden...I was nearly fed to them when I tried to open the gates of Dras-Leona. Arya and I destroyed two of them, but there could have easily been more." Eragon shuddered, remembering the dark event.

"Wouldn't that be the sort of thing you would want to double check?" said Murtagh questioningly, his voice raising a hair.

"Well it wasn't as if you or the garrison there were giving us much of a chance..." retorted Eragon.

"This history lesson is intriguing, but would Raz'ac really help the Surdans? What could they possibly offer them?" Aedin asked, cutting in before anything could escalate.

"Eggs." The blue Rider said grimly, looking up at both of them slowly.

"Say that again?" said Murtagh, dread creeping into his features.

"We know it's Raz'ac, because at the same time that Dethras was poisoned Ae'Thras, the tower where the Rider eggs meant for the Empire was attacked by "figures in black" according to the garrison there..." he started, breathing a bit faster.

"Did they.." Murtagh's voice caught.

"Only Beridor and his dragon Karth were there to provide any form of magic...they were both slain, Beridor contacted me seconds before he joined his dragon in the void, the dwarves returned the next day and buried the body." Eragon finished grimly.

A deep senseless rage slowly boiled through Aedin, he put his fists on the table in front of him, and trembled as he went through every calming exercise his father had taught him while hunting in Du Weldenvarden. Then he took his rage, shaped it, molded it, and compressed it into a usable fury on the monsters that had done this.

"How many eggs?" He finally asked.

"Eight."

"Eragon...I will have a thunder of Riders in the air before dawn...we will BURN Aberon to the ground for this!" shouted the red Rider, standing furiously.

"NO!" he shouted back, "That is the LAST thing I want Murtagh!" shouted Eragon, as Murtagh recoiled at his sudden outburst. "If we attacked now Surda would declare war on the Empire, with the Raz'ac's help it would be just as bloody as when the Varden fought Galbatorix!"

He stopped to catch his breath, pausing for a few moments, then continued softer " We need to move softly, to prepare our attack in the shadows. Hence, why I called you both here..." He gestured at both men.

They both drew themselves up and bowed slightly.

"I am yours to command Master."

"And I." added Murtagh.

"Good...Aedin, tomorrow you will leave for the Beors and fly to Tarnag, then to Ae'Thras to see if you can find any evidence of Ra'zac or Surdan involvement in this crime." Eragon ordered, standing up and pushing in his chair.

Murtagh crossed his arms and snorted, "I'm not going to sit around while those monsters are about."

"Good, because I want you flying on Illrea to show support for Dethras and to deter further assassination attempts."

He scoffed at him then. "I've already spent quite enough of my time babysitting morons in robes, even if it's not called Uru'baen anymore I refuse to stay any longer than needed."

"Well then you'll appreciate the fact that as soon as Aedin and his apprentice find any solid leads on the Ra'zac, you will be the first to meet them to wipe them out."

Murtagh seemed quite pleased at this, grinning for the first time sinde Aedin had entered the space. "Very well, I like the plan. I had to bow to those bastards once, it will be good to get the chance to slit their throats."

"Of course all this will only occur if the Council votes for it...we all know the Urgals or Dwarves could want war now...or the Imperial ambassador may not want us interfering." said Aedin.

"It will go according to plan..."grinned Eragon into his beard, "I never thought I'd be any good at politics, but we can make them see the light."


	4. Chapter 4

**God, sorry it took so long to get this chapter up. Really struggling with making them long enough to post. I'm aiming for the 3000 character mark, but cba to reach it. Chapters will be longer when needed, but I cant really see a way of being more descriptive without bogging down the speech **

There was a soft cough, a rustling of robes, someone scratched at a beard, but nobody spoke in the now fully occupied Chamber of Elders. Twelve of the most powerful representatives of the Riders, and the different governments of Alagaesia sat in identical plain chairs around the map table, with Eragon at the head, each scheming to get their own way in any way possible. They were currently in a lull following the bombshell that Eragon had dropped revealing the attack. For his part, Aedin sat back and watched, spending most of his efforts trying not to just sit and rub his temples.

"Well then, we all agree on one thing!" shouted Thorvik, a taller than average dwarf Rider with a gray and black beard. "Aberon should burn for this treachery!" Along side him, Urth, the Dwarven king's representative, and Gdark, a fellow dwarf Rider, stood and joined him silently.

Across the table Ovenk, the first Urgal Rider unsheathed his axe and roared "My people would gladly join your fight, dwarf!"

"Peace! Everyone please!" called Eolas, an elf rider with short cropped brown hair, an orange Rider's saber at his belt. "Lets not return to another shouting match over the problem. If we attack in force it would lead to another war, and the last thing Alagaesia needs is more bloodshed."

"But what of the eggs?" asked Darack solemnly, he was one of the oldest looking in the room, his dragon Vindr hatching for him in his late thirties, his short hair gray at the temples. "If the Ra'zac or Surdans or whatever mystical creature took them, and gets them to hatch...we'll have to kill the Riders, along with a good piece of part of a very small population of dragons."

Even the Dwarfs had to agree with the voices of reason, all sitting back down in their seats as another calm settled over the meeting. Aedin had to admit he was right. Although the growth of the Riders and of the wild dragons was incredibly fast, there were but perhaps a few hundred wild dragons and eighty Riders, being generous. Of the "Riders" Only ten were considered full masters of mental, magical, and physical combat, with around twenty five considered "apprentices" being tutored by a master. Nevan was considered one of those twenty five, nearing the end of his training. The rest of the Riders were mere apprentices, unable to say _"Brisingr"_ without passing out.

"We could always ask the Du Gata Vrangr for help in this matter, or the Nighthawks." offered Orithana, an Elven Rider with flowing blonde hair.

Finally, Eragon spoke for the first time in a long while from behind clasped hands, "I'd rather we keep this a matter within our order. We are removed here, but not unreachable. The mysticism and mystery behind the eggs is part of what keeps them safe. If people think they're easy to take we'll have caravans miles long in the mountains waiting to touch an egg." he stated simply, his mind clearly focused on something else.

"Forgive me...elda," started Thorvik, "but you seem far too calm, considering that our entire Order may be on the brink of war!"

The dwarf then went on another tirade about honor, and how Riders didn't conform to politics in the old days, and how the affront could not go unpunished. For his part, Aedin slumped against the table, his face somewhere in the Spine as he rested on his arms, wishing the wards in his chair would let him cast a minor healing spell to stop the dull pain in his temples the damn dwarf was causing. The pain intensified however, causing him to sit up and grab his head in a hiss of pain.

He was only dimly aware of the others in the room collapsing in similar ways as a multitude of thoughts thrashed over his own, losing his own in the process.

"ENOUGH!" roared Umaroth, his baritone voice rising over the multitude of Eldunari flooding through out their minds. Somehow, Aedin managed to scrap together enough of himself to realize they were stored in a chamber below where they were, along with other dragon eggs that hadn't hatched. Evidently they had grown...impatient with the way the supposed wisest in Alagaesia were dealing with the fate of their race.

"A massive portion of our race has been taken by those who would wish you, and us harm, yet you squabble in the dirt like insects while we could cease to be on this earth!" the silver dragon's consciousness roared through their minds.

"Master! I-" said Thorvik, attempting to speak his mind.

"Enough!" Umaroth growled again "Your master has had a resolution for hours, yet you refuse to see it, let him speak before your ego's further endanger the remainder of our race..." With that, the multitude of minds dissipated, no longer ravaging their minds, but ominously present in the background.

"Very well then," stated Orithana, shakily getting to her feet, "what is..your plan then Eragon-elda?"

"A...full on reaction of force would only drive our foes further into the depths...we must instead use disgression, I recommend that no more than two Rider teams go...if Umaroth and the other Eldunari agree?" offered Eragon.

It was quiet for some time as the Old Ones debated amongst themselves, finally "This plan pleases us, sometimes, prey must be stalked before their neck can be snapped in their lair..." growled Umaroth.

"Yes, but whom among us should go? It must be someone strong in the magical arts to stand a chance against the Ra'zac." said Orithana.

"And that, is why I recommend sending Aedin and his apprentice to Ae'Thras immediately, along with Murtagh, who will stay in Illrea, and join Aedin should he require assistance." said Eragon, inclining his head at both of the men.

Immediately, Aedin rested his head on the table edge and began praying to every deity he knew of for patience as yet another wave of outrage came from everyone around the table, especially the dwarves.

"And why should HE be sent and not one of our kind!" shouted Urth, "there are many who are older and wiser than he, who would not even be welcome in Illrea. Many still live from the Rider war who would gladly make him pay for what he's done!"

"And what have I done?" Murtagh shouted forcefully.

"Killed innocent men fighting for freedom! Killed the last of the Old Riders! And you conveniently forget our King Hrothgar, whom you killed of your own free will!"

A dead silence filled the air as all waited for Murtagh to respond. When the red Rider had returned years ago, it had become an unspoken rule not to speak of what he had done under Galbatorix's control, and he had only participated in missions in the Eastern Lands, or in remote areas of the Spine, away from humans resentful of his cruelty under the Mad King, and Du Weldenvarden, where some elves blamed him for the death of the elf Rider Oromis, and far far away from the Beor's, where most dwarves were sworn to kill him over the death of Hrothgar. Aedin expected a retort as red hot as Thorn's scales, but was surprised when his friend simply balled his fists in his lap and looked down, when the half breed knew he could simply pick up the little dwarf and hurl him across the room.

Eragon sighed, "True, Murtagh may not be the most beloved of us by the outside world, but it has been decades since Galbatorix was slain by my blade, and I know that I spared Murtagh for a reason." he said, standing and leaning on the table's edge.

"I am sick of seeing my brother treated poorly for acts he had little or no control over. All I know is, he had three chances to kill or capture me during the war, and did neither, he also made it possible to kill Galbatorix. We're supposed to be the wisest and most enlightened beings in Alagaesia...lets act like it." he finished, pacing back and forth.

"I want them to go, as they can blend in with the city folk better than a dwarf or elf, and both know how to travel across country and through cities with out being detected, and digression is something we'll need I think..."

"Very well...I agree to this, Firesword." said Ovenk of all people "But, I would be the one to lead the charge on these shadow-birds' lair and burn it into ash!"

A series of 'ayes' and acknowledgments followed as they agreed to the plan, each standing from their seats. Aedin joined them, happy for the chance to stretch his legs and crack his sore back. Then, he felt a slight prodding at his mind.

_That went well, only four hours of nonstop banter, _quipped Murtagh sarcastically.

_I was about to go crazy, thank goodness Umaroth stepped in _he responded, walking out through a passageway with the fellow Rider.

_Yeah...I'm still worried though...Urth may be right..._ he sighed as Aedin put a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, don't you say that. You're a damn good Rider, and a damn good friend. What's done is done and can't be changed. Don't blame yourself over what can't be undone, and improve in the future, you had nothing to prove to the munchkins." Aedin responded, patting the other man on the shoulder and readying to go to the surface.

Aedin and Elenya flew back uneventfully, Aedin happy for the quiet of the wind rushing past, happy to be free of being a politician for the day. Yet he couldn't shake the mass building in his stomach, sitting like a rock. He was nervous about traveling again, and more worried that he'd never find the eggs. Still, he was happy that Nevan and Karrik would get a chance to see the world again, as they hadn't been sent on missions for at least a few years.

_There is little more I can teach him Aedin..._ said Elenya as her Rider dismounted and began removing her saddle.

_Aye...Nevan could beat me in a test of swordsmanship any day._ He responded, pulling off the saddle and resting it on the ground so he could begin packing it.

_If this goes well, I'll suggest to Eragon that he be made a Rider in full._

With that, he opened the passageway from the cave to his home and began raiding his supplies for the first leg of the journey. He hauled out two large cases of dried provisions including many different herbs, and varieties of dried fish and meats. Unlike elves, he had nothing against eating meat. To him it was a personal choice, yes, if he so chose he would feel the pain an animal went through when he killed it to eat, but in the same way, plants could feel it when killed for food, so it made no difference to him.

He also grabbed a mess kit with a fork, knife, and spoon, along with a wooden bowl and a small iron cooking pot, which he put in a large bag with the provisions, taking the time to also grab a few large blankets in case he had to spend a night outside with out Elenya's wing to use as a tent. Once food and shelter were taken care of he moved on to his equipment.

He always brought _Isuldir_, his Rider's sword, wherever he went on a simple sword belt. It currently hung on a hook next to the entrance. Walking into his sleeping area he unlocked a large chest and pulled out the rest of what he would be bringing. First he removed a larger that usual sword belt. It was much wider than usual ones first, to cover the lower stomach from sword strikes, and second, to conceal many different throwing spikes and knives held within. The belt also contained a black diamond in the center, brimming with energy Aedin had spent months filling.

With the belt came a unique set of steel armor, segmented between the chest and stomach for easier wear when riding, and also coming with arm guards, shoulder guards, and grieves. The right shoulder guard was larger than the left, as Aedin rarely had the chance of fighting with a shield, or had a dagger in his left hand, it made it easier to bash an attacker away. The arm guards themselves also held more throwing daggers, which Aedin preferred over a bow for purposes of stealth, and ease of use in confined areas. The daggers and spikes could also be used in close quarters, making them more useful than a bow in his opinion.

He fondly remembered the first time he had found he was skilled at throwing weapons. It had been just after the Burning Plains, he had been sitting back and watching the men from Carvahall throwing hatchets at a log cut ten yards away. He had kept his distance, knowing during the whole journey with the villagers none of them trusted him: a mysterious hunter from an unknown northern tribe with pointy ears who had only spoken with Eragon and occasionally Garrow. Eventually, a Varden soldier who had also been watching pushed him forward and told him to have a go. After hitting the bulls eye on the first try, and then splitting the handle of the first hatchet with the second, Aedin decided it was a good skill to have.

Under the armor he wore a simple black tunic and trousers, with dark leather boots with buckles coming up to just below his knees. He wore his trademark dark brown cloak with hood over it all, useful for keeping out a chill, and blending in with locals while hiding all of his weapons.

Around his neck the half elf wore two necklaces. The first was the symbol of his tribe. One of many that roamed the area between the eastern coast of the Bay of Fondor, and the western edge of Du Weldenvarden. Some tribes were simply bands of low lifes that had escaped from the Empire's prisons, others were different, like Aedin's. They had lived there for centuries, descending from humans who hadn't wanted to fight for Mad King Palancar and preferred to live in simple hunting villages. Some of the elves found this quiet, but hard working life to their liking, and lived among and mated with the humans. While most of the children born of these unions never came of marriage, most relationships stayed happy until the human parent died. Some tribes were made entirely of these "Half Elves" or "half-breeds", but Aedin's was a mix of elves, men, and mixes like himself. His father being the Harbinger of his tribe meant that Aedin had to learn all of the tribe's traditions to take over his father's role someday. But the Ra'zac, and Galbatorix's army, meant that Aedin had none of his people left to share his knowledge with. He had found his father, and all of his village dead after returning from a hunting trip. The strange prints on the ground, along side those of Imperial hobnail boots, had sent him running west as fast as possible. With no family to speak of, a dead father, village, and not knowing the name of his mother, Aedin had nothing to lose as he had hunted the Ra'zac to Carvahall, discovering the dragon egg, and staying to help the villagers defend against the foul beasts.

Aedin snapped out of the bittersweet memory as he reflected what he lost and what he'd gained that day. He'd lost everything...but gained the best friend he'd ever had. He could still see Roran's bearded grin as he looked down at his stone dragon head amulet, joined by another simpler iron amulet used to prevent scrying of his location.

He finished packing a few extra changes of clothes and hauled them outside to Elenya's saddle, walking back inside his home one last time to see if anything had been forgotten. As he turned to leave, something caught his eye however. Moving slowly, he stopped in front of his doused fireplace, and found himself face to face with his sword, his old sword. He picked up _Glaedfang _in it's sheath slowly. He hadn't used the weapon in ages, but knew that the blade would be as pristine as the last time he used it.

The elven blade had belonged to his mother, according to his father and uncles. Before she had returned to Du Weldenvarden after giving birth to him, she had told them to give Aedin the sword as soon as he could hold it. He had carried the weapon through all of his hunting trips, all his battles with the Varden. The sword had never let him down. The one thing his mother hadn't done was give it a name, however. So Aedin did himself, calling it after the legendary ship the first humans had used to first reach Alagaesia.

Aedin muttered it's name gently as he pulled a few inches out of it's leather. The blade seemed to humm with excitement as he did so, as if it was eager for just one more adventure with it's master. He smiled as warm memories flooded back to him, from long before he had used _Isuldir_, when it was just he and the Varden, all pinning their hopes on one Rider and his sapphire dragon.

With a smile, he belted both of his blades onto his sword belt, then removed it and placed it by Elenya's saddle, removing his outer garments to sleep in his bed for the night. Elenya whined a bit in protest, but understood that her Rider needed a good night's rest on a padded bed, sore muscles would be a liability on this trip, and traveling cross country left no room for comfort.

_Good night little one... _

_Tomorrow, we go find the Ra'zac, and get back what was taken from you, _He promised.

_Then it is indeed a good night._

_Yes, I suppose it is._

**I don't own Inheritance. Starting next chapter, things really get moving. Which in turn, will motivate me to type more, meaning better chapters faster! Yay!  
**


	5. Chapter 5

**No excuse for why it took so long to get this up. I just hate writing at a computer, staring at a monitor isn't fun. I much prefer being curled up and writing in a composition notebook with a good old black pen. But anyway, new chapter is up. Please guys, review to tell me what you want to see. Also let me know if this is toooo light hearted. I just feel like Inheritance is far to serious and the characters never have enough fun. If you're traveling across an area the size of America with no iPod, you're gonna banter, and that's what I'm trying to show. Lemme know if it works.**

Aedin leaned against the damp bark of a pine tree in the pre-dawn gloom of Mount Red claw, sheltering a small valley in the Daeta Dur mountain chain. Feeling the drizzle of the morning drip into the fabric of his cloak the Rider grunted irritably and shifted position, his feet sinking slightly into the waterlogged loam. The mountain range was wet. Located on the very north eastern corner of the Alagaesian coast it was subjected to huge amounts of rainfall every year, with thunderstorms coming in almost nightly. Located further north than most of Du Weldenvarden, the rain that came was also very cold, but almost never froze except on the higher mountains. As such most of the forest was always soaking.

Hence, Aedin's short temper. Normally the Rider showed his elven side's patience, even when getting up before the sun rose over the horizon. What he did not like, however, was getting up early to stand in the rain and waiting because his block-headed apprentice didn't get up on time when he'd been told they were leaving early the night before. He was in this state when Karrik's maroon mass appeared over the steep cliff face and landed in a heap, his hind legs sinking a few inches into the grass.

_Master I apologize! I didn't-_

_Ah, I suppose your Rider didn't find it important to tell you we were leaving this morning?_ offered Elenya from her curled up position next to the apprentice's barracks.

_No...he...neglected to mention it._ Karrik responded, lowering his head.

"Well, I for one am sick of waiting, and do think it's time for the sleeping price to grace us with his presence." quipped Aedin as he marched up the stone steps to the doorway. Moving to kick the door open however, a large mass of leather, wool, and metal pushed him onto the ground in a heap. Gaining his bearings a moment later the Rider looked up to see one very disheveled, bloodshot, and disorganized Nevan carrying his back, and his cloak on backwards.

"Aedin!" he yelled, looking around frantically for his master, only seeing the two dragons sitting there silently, unaware of their frantic attempts to hide their laughter at the situation. Finally, when Elenya let out a bugling roar that must have woken the whole valley, the apprentice saw his master lying dazed against the steps with his dropped back on his chest.

To his credit, Nevan immediately rushed to his aid and pulled the pack off, hoisting the older man to his feet quickly. "Master! I'm so sorry...I overslept and I forgot to tell Karrik we were leaving and I stayed up late last night preparing-"

He was quickly cut off by an exasperated gloved finger placed over his mouth.

"Don't...just...don't..." Aedin sighed, "Just...lets just go."he finished, turning away to mount Elenya. Who couldn't help but laugh in his face as he approached. Secretly he returned the laugh with a smirk of his own as he rubbed his head.

_Don't laugh, the kid can pack a punch!_

_Oh, this will be a tail to tell, the great Aedin Long-Claw, Hunter of the Varden, defeated by a wooden door._ Elenya gasped again as she, along with Karrik finally stopped laughing, though occasional tremors racked her body.

Nevan in turn buckled his pack to his saddle and began putting on his sword belt. Less gracefully than he'd planed, Aedin turned around and began searching his back frantically, finally finding the object he was looking for he shouted something incoherent at Nevan to stop.

Looking quizzically upwards at his master, the apprentice was surprised when he didn't say anything, and was more surprised when something was thrown in his general direction wrapped in a cloth. "We don't have time for ceremony, but I highly doubt you want to be hunting Ra'zac with a blade that you'll be sulking over with a grindstone for hours.

"Aedin..what are you talking about?" Nevan asked as he started to unwrap the cloth.

"Well you've gone and wasted the time I'd set aside to explain that, look at it in the air, right now we need to fly!" Aedin grinned as Elenya took off with one swipe of her wings. The other pair quickly followed them into the sky, over the narrow valleys of the coastal mountains. Eventually the sun came into view, then turned to their backs as the quartet turned to the south west, and the rest of Alagaesia.

When they had leveled out some, Nevan released the grip on his saddle and looked down at the cloth in his lap. He remained densely ignorant of what it was until he pulled the wrap off, revealing the hilt of a maroon red Rider's sword.

The party flew between the Sea of Heruz and the Daeta Dur Mountains for some time, quickly leaving them behind after a few hours however, replaced with hardwood forest below. The forests had many springs and rivers, but they rarely received rainfall, with the mountains sucking up most of the rain from the east, leaving the forest, strangely distinct from the mass of Du Weldenvarden, relatively high and dry. On dragon back, the forest was a distinct green smudge, with an occasional clearing revealing a small pond or meadow. The woods were less densely packed than Du Weldenvarden as well, allowing for a wider diversity of animals and plant life. Flying above it, Aedin remembered fondly the week's he and Elenya had spent together in total isolation from civilization, a required part of their apprenticeship to strengthen their bond.

He had been allowed to take one small hunting knife, and the clothes on his back. Elenya's wing was his shelter, what he killed with a sling or thrown knife was his food. Those were the days. The days before he had expectations placed on him, before the politics had reached Arakesh, and the Riders, before whatever evil they were to hunt had reared its ugly head. Elenya interrupted Aedin's thoughts with a soft brush against his mind.

_When they're dead, we can come back here. I don't plan on taking another apprentice for a long time..._ she yawned, beating her wings slowly.

_Aye, training those two, _he inclined his head at his apprentices, _has been a learning experience and an enjoyable one, but I prefer the solitude we shared. _

They continued to fly in silence until, Aedin assumed, his apprentice gathered the courage to fly closer to him to ask about the blade he had buckled on his belt.

"Before you ask, I don't think you're ready to take the mantle of a Rider, but I do think you know enough to be independent. And when fighting the Ra'zac you'll need a strong blade."

"So I am not to be a Rider in full?" Nevan asked glumly,

"I didn't say that," grinned Aedin "consider this a trial run, if you perform well on this mission I will gladly test you myself, I for one think you're ready, but this test was ordered by some high ranking member of the council."

Both Nevan and Karrik glowed with inner pride at that. They both knew that they had been trained for a much shorter period than most apprentices, and being made official members of the order would be a great honor. However, they also wondered who had ordered they be tested, and whether they wanted them to pass or fail.

Seeing the blush creep into his apprentice's face, Aedin deemed he wouldn't speak more of it, mostly because he didn't want either of them distracted about being promoted while on the mission, and also because he just loved seeing Nevan squirm. All through out his training it had been a back and forth battle between them. Other masters in the order had questioned Aedin over his informal training style, including very physical battles, a somewhat lax amount of safety when teaching magic, and words of power, even questioning his forbidding of "Master" and "elda" while training. The fact was, Aedin didn't care for tradition. While he appreciated what the Riders of old had done to bring stability to Alagaesia, it obviously hadn't worked. One upstart apprentice, lacking in gramyre, and brought down the entire Order with twelve other friends. He didn't see why he couldn't be serious when needed, and informal with his apprentice the rest of the time.

Elenya took a slightly different tone when training Karrik, demanding a bit more respect, but it was more vanity that demanded it, rather than her needing the praise to satisfy herself. Other dragons and Riders had even begun to suspect that the two dragons may have gotten romantically involved, but the...aggressive way in which Elenya denied the accusations often shunted all accusers from the topic.

Aedin grunted as his frustrated fingers fumbled with his saddle buckles before finally leaping from Elenya's back. The group had made camp hours earlier after making little progress thanks to a strong headwind. Behind them the final foothills of the Daeta Dur Mountains crested upwards in gentle slopes, while ahead of them rested unbroken desert as far as the eye could see. Riders called it The Empty Quarter. While not at large as the Hadarac Desert, the lack of any landscape, and larger rock floor meant it was far hotter and much more desolate. Despite that natural barriers around them, Aedin had just returned from a scouting mission, stretching his mind far across the landscape to detect any would be attackers. Finding nothing aside from a few hawks in the sky and the insects and plants below, they returned to their small camp along side a small stream.

"I don't see why you wasted the time, nobody dares to live this far north in the Frontier," joked Nevan as he approached with a hot bowl of stew.

Aedin nodded appreciatively and took a seat by the fire his apprentice had prepared. Sitting on a large rock he eagerly devoured the meal, enjoying the respite from the cold of the stratospheric winds.

"It never hurts to be careful, and there are rumors about of barbarian tribes and slavers hiding in the Northlands." he responded, referring to the peninsula of land that stretched up from the mountains to the east, far into the north. It was unexplored land with many different small tribes of humans of unknown origin. The few elven studies done of the area referred to a culture far older than the humans of Palancar Valley, but the short summers, lack of supplies and support, and general disinterest of the Empire and even the Riders had abandoned all study.

Aedin smirked as he thought of how unexplored Alagaesia really was. What most Empirical maps showed was only around a third of the entire continent. Hedarth was widely considered to be the most eastern settlement in Alagaesia, but nothing could be further from the truth.

As the Edda River flowed eastward, it soon split into three bodies. The Jiereta, flowing north into the Empty Quarter, the Arumesh, keeping eastwards and flowing across the rest of the continent into the sea, and the Uruscet River, flowing south into the South Sea, and the Gulf of Orthvik And the southeast coast of Alagaesia. This was the path Eragon took when he discovered the Daeta Dur mountains. The east coast looked very similar to the west that had already been documented, with the Ankarra Peninsula sticking out as the continent's most southwestward point, the rest of the coastline covered by various mountains much like the Spine, and the relatively humble Daeta Dur's peaking out of a small peninsula on the very north east corner of Alagaesia proper.

This whole area had as diverse a climate as the West, and nearly all of it was unexplored, yet quickly being claimed by the Empire and Surda. Already a free port had been built on the Ankarra Peninsula, and many elven researchers had begun investigating the Great Eastern Forest for new tree and flower specimens. The Dwarves had also sent several tribes of miners to the eastern mountain ranges to look for new gems.

Finishing his dinner, Aedin noticed his apprentice swinging his sword experimentally a few paces away from the fire. He smiled as the man fought back his imaginary adversaries, the blade moving like liquid through the air. Following his example, the Rider reached over and removed both of his blades from his saddle bag. Removing them slowly he stood and twirled them around in slow circles. Though he often fought with a shield in his left hand and a sword in his right, as he went through a slow combo he found he preferred the balance the two blades gave him. He stepped away from the fire and began to move faster, always keeping one blade in motion, moving with a grace familiar to one who had seen an elf fight. Finishing up one strike he turned to bring his left blade shearing across the chest of his opponent in what would have been a killing blow, when he hit something solid.

He looked up and found himself face to face with Nevan, holding his metal shield and sword at the ready.

"So, you think just because I gave you a new sticker you can beat me in a duel?"

"I can try, old man."

"Hmph...good luck." Aedin smirked, jumping back and guarding both blades simultaneously.

Nevan did the same to his blade and flipped his blade over in his palm. Both men started circling each other slowly, weapons at the ready to defend against who ever would strike first. Aedin blinked a drop of sweat out of his eye: Nevan took the chance. Jumping forward he chopped downward with his blade, cutting at the collarbone. Stepping backwards Aedin deflected the blade with a swipe of his left hand, swinging his sword up to slash his opponent's chest. Seeing the move, Nevan stepped into Aedin's guard and hit him in the chest with his shield, forcing the other man back and off balance.

Aedin wasted no time returning the attack, whipping to a flurry of blows that caught on the hard shield. The blows jarred the half elf's arms to the bone, but tired out the other man, causing the heavy disc to drop lower and lower.

Eventually he batted it away with an grunt and drove one blade right towards Nevan's stomach. The human was saved at the last second by a lucky blind swipe at both of Aedin's blades. He held on to one, but Isuldir dropped into the dusty ground with a muted thump. Evenly matched, both men began what could only be described as a wailing match, using weapons that should have been deadly, essentially as clubs, thanks to the ward's placed on themselves, and the blocks on their weapons. Aedin scored many painful strikes with his superior speed and reflexes, but each mistake in balance he made, each over extension, each stumble, cost him a large welt or bruise that would surely bring pain in the morning

The fight went on for ten minutes more, neither man gaining ground, but it ended rather abruptly. As Aedin leaped back and deflected his apprentice's brick red blade he tripped over the very rock he'd been sitting on earlier. Wide eyed, the half breed rolled to avoid his the cold steel thrusting at his chest...and miscalculated. The cursing could be heard for miles as Nevan accidentally landed in a very sensitive area. As could Elenya's roaring laughter.

After an hour of apologies and mutual healing spells, all parties decided to retire for the night. Aedin just glad he still had all the body parts he'd woken up with the morning before. He and Elenya had a good laugh at his own expense. The dragoness joked about the sagas to be written about the Rider slaying boulder and Aedin could just laugh. He relished the peaceful and fun moments while he could. He knew they couldn't last. If nothing else he knew his apprentice could defend himself, he knew they'd need every last trick, every underhanded tactic, every scrap of knowledge possible to fight the coming battle...

**I don't own Inheritance, any of Paolini's characters, Dragon Riders, or what have you. This is a work of fan fiction written for non profit enjoyment only. Please don't sue me. **


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